


i didn't ask for a song

by harajukucrepes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, I am sorry there's just too much porn in here, Implied Blowjobs, Jaehyun has a thing for Yuta wearing his clothes, Jet-setting around the world in different places, Language, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pretty dark if you ask me, Rockstar Yuta, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, There's a lot of sex in here, actor Jaehyun, bottom!Yuta, bottom!jaehyun, handjobs, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:56:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harajukucrepes/pseuds/harajukucrepes
Summary: Yuta is trying to think of a shortest way to say it but coming up with blanks because his reason is long and convoluted and it goes a little something like:because my songs were the weapons I used to hurt people who gave me pain; because my songs were about the pain I gave to all the men who came before you; because my songs were all about the stupid, stinky men who were here before you and for some reason—I don’t want to sing about you.





	i didn't ask for a song

**Author's Note:**

> \- this was conceived after the brooklyn boys series where jaehyun and yuta were spotted wearing the same clothes.  
\- i swear it was meant to be a more flighty, casual piece max 3k long, so i don't know how it got here  
\- the sequencing drives me mad with the formatting, so i numbered it  
\- there's an average of one sex scene for every one thousand word (i didn't count, it's just an approximation) so if you're uncomfortable please kindly click away  
\- i really swear it's supposed to be a much lighter work  
\- angst is exhausting, because i wrote this as a distraction from a never-ending yuwin fic but now i need some rest 
> 
> \- if there's any correction or mistakes, feel free to let me know!

_i_

_ **6\. New York** _

The same voice that sang him to sleep is now waking him up.

** _5\. Tokyo_ **

It feels so good to be fucked out of his skull after he performed what could only be accurately described as the Greatest Of All Time.

The audience chant his name as Jaehyun’s tongue trailed his chest, the soaring screams as Jaehyun has him inside his mouth. You’re so good at this, he hears Jaehyun say, over and over again, with that deep guttural voice Yuta loves so much. God he’s so hot.

You’re really so good at this, he says again because Yuta thrives off praises in times of high exhilaration. He’s so infatuated with the high that he arcs himself, he lets out a groan, he grabs Jaehyun’s hair as he readies himself for the climax.

Then it comes with violent shudder and in his head, the applause goes on forever.

** _4\. Singapore_ **

The tropical weather isn’t as scorchingly hot as he expected but he keeps Jaehyun’s blazer on him anyway. The airport is just as beautiful and cozy as advertised.

We could come here again when it’s cold up north, he texts before turning on the flight mode.

** _2\. Osaka_ **

Your hair is a mess, do you know that?

_I love it._

** _3\. Seoul_ **

Jaehyun likes that Yuta picks up languages fast. His other acquaintances from Japan still struggle to pronounce some words (especially the ones ending in consonants) but Yuta, in Jaehyun’s words, glides through every new language user’s growing pains.

“You’re getting so good speaking in Korean, I feel like you’re going to steal all my fans in no time,” Jaehyun complains in reference to the fans’ response throughout the cafe livestream they just ended.

“Are you making fun of me?” Yuta pretends to sulk. “And by the way going on Instagram live was your idea and I still think you are crazy.”

He must really be crazy because the fans are still peeking from the cafe window (Yuta thinks they rushed here after Jaehyun turned on his livestream, because they are huffing and puffing and close to losing their minds the moment they see Jaehyun) and his manager is nervously rapping on the bar counter, signalling that they should leave as soon as possible before the crowd gets out of control.

Jaehyun nods knowingly towards the direction of the bar where his manager is, signals for Yuta to come closer and whispers softly into his ear.

_We should continue elsewhere._

It’s so hard to resist him that Yuta doesn’t even bother attempting to.

_ **7\. Sydney** _

The weirdest thing about Jaehyun is that he loves to cuddle after sex. Even if he’s on the receiving end.

Especially when he’s on the receiving end.

And he’s the big spoon.

And for some reason he seems to have Yuta’s mildly sweaty back pressed against his chest.

(It’s kinda gross, but Jaehyun has a way of making gross things seem rather romantic. It’s his forte as an actor that Yuta didn’t expect would extend to his real self as well.)

Today he decides to get even weirder—he _sings_ while cuddling.

More accurately though, he’s _humming_ something melodic that reminds Yuta of those jazz ballad bands some of those gaudishly pretentious bands claiming some unreadable elite credentials in those stupidly expensive bar that those executives usually take him. It also reminds him of that cello player who used to busk in front of the Grand Front Osaka while he was a teenager.

He suddenly wonders how that cello player is doing now, because Yuta hasn’t seen him around after moving to Tokyo.

Do you know what this song is, Jaehyun asks.

Sorry, what? Yuta’s mind drifted so far back in time from Jaehyun’s singing that he doesn’t register that he has finished the song.

Jaehyun pulls him closer towards his chest, so close that Yuta can feel his heartbeat. You are going to tell me who or what you have in your mind.

Nothing, Yuta says, stretching his hand out towards the direction of the flickering light in a distance outside the hotel window and trying—unsuccessfully, of course—to capture the light inside his palm. Though, you were singing so well, it had me thinking of this guy busking back in Osaka.

Oh?

Yeah, Yuta continues. For some reason your voice reminds me of jazz.

I—I wasn’t singing a jazz song.

What? Yuta throws his head back so suddenly that the back of his head hit Jaehyun’s forehead.

Jaehyun’s voice as he laughs after sex is a 100 times more attractive then when he groaned during climax, Yuta swears.

** _8\. Paris_ **

Yuta sees Jaehyun in the baguette cafe chatting up a pretty red-haired girl in French.

If I knew you would do shit like this, I wouldn’t have come here.

Jaehyun takes a sip from his cup of latte? cappucino? decorated with the Eiffel Tower latte art.

And yet here you are.

_ **1\. São Paulo** _

“You know who he is,” Jett says. Once his scout and his dedicated critic, Jett has since transformed into his staunchly protectively manager and a loyal wingwoman once he fulfilled his promise to sell more than a million albums.

Yuta glances at the Asian man sitting alone by the window in a hotel restaurant full of local patrons.

“Yes, I know him.”

Jett pats him on the shoulder. “Have fun and remember the condoms.”

_Ii_

_ **6\. New York** _

Is it a bad thing, Yuta says as Jaehyun’s hand trails his torso slowly, that you remind me of Frank Sinatra.

In what way, Jaehyun asks and Yuta pulls his face in for a kiss. Being drunk in a high-end jazz bar has a way of transporting him 50 years back across the world to when the music was made with love instead of sex, drugs and rock and roll, and in a lot of ways Yuta’s thinking that maybe he should have made music that’s a bit like jazz—slow and relaxing and gets people swaying around.

The kind of jazz music that feels a little like Jaehyun—gentle and soothing and comforting.

_In all the best ways possible._

** _5\. Tokyo_ **

It’s impossible for humans to feel this much adrenaline in one go but Yuta feels like he has just gone through the world’s longest and tallest roller coaster.

Everything feels so good. Everything—the music, the audience, the sex.

The top of the world feels so good.

** _4\. Singapore_ **

Jaehyun calls himself a man with simple needs, but everything about Marina Bay Sands’ Presidential Suite begs to differ.

“Did you know that I hate rich people,” Yuta says, unironically.

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow in mild surprise. “What do you mean?”

Yuta rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were different.”

_ **2\. Osaka** _

Jaehyun runs his fingers through Yuta’s hair.

_I haven’t stopped thinking about you._

_ **3\. Seoul** _

I’m going to outcrazy you, Yuta says as he tugs at Jaehyun’s belt inside the lift without pressing the button to his hotel room.

I’m listening. Jaehyun whispers, mouth nibbling at Yuta’s ear.

** _7\. Sydney_ **

The band’s called Cigarettes After Sex.

Cigarettes after _what_?

I knew you wouldn’t know of them. Cigarettes After Sex.

And old band?

A new band. You should listen.

I should.

** _8\. Paris_ **

Jaehyun’s hotel room has a piano and overlooks the Eiffel Tower. It’s the most Jaehyun thing imaginable. It even smells like him and it smells so much like him that it’s starting to smother his senses. It reminds him of all the men that he used to hate, and Yuta is starting to see the purpose of all of these.

Across the room, Jaehyun is already playing something on the piano.

He’s playing something melodic, something like what he had heard in that movie about a wannabe actress and a jazz singer, but it’s different. By the time Jaehyun feels like he has gotten Yuta’s full attention, the song switches to an erratic series of ascending chords and Yuta suddenly realises that he’s the only person who has heard this.

When he finishes, Jaehyun sighs.

I know you’re not going to sing about me, and I know you won’t let me write you a song.

What are you saying, Yuta asks. Don’t do something stupid.

Jaehyun walks over and starts kissing him roughly.

But I want you to hurt me the way you were hurt before.

The fuck are you talking—

Just do it.

** _1\. São Paulo_ **

They are no strangers to each other, not really, but still Yuta thinks there’s some merits in doing some deeper introduction.

“Jett’s actual name is Nanami,” Yuta says, sneakily pointing to his manager with a thumb. “But if you call her that, she’ll knee you so hard you might start wondering if your nuts would still function.”

“She’s feisty,” Jaehyun laughs.

“Her ex-girlfriend said she once caused a boy in their class to be infertile.”

“Her ex-_girl_friend.”

On Jaehyun’s face is a look of curiosity and Yuta smiles in relief. “And that’s what you choose to focus on?”

“It’s because I won’t call her what she doesn’t want to be called. And I’m going to guess that she nicknamed herself after Joan Jett?”

Yuta’s liking the flow of the conversation a lot. “Smart.”

Jaehyun’s dimpled grin is alarmingly attractive.

“You’re really charming,” Yuta remarks. “Are you really like this, or are you just disgustingly good at this?”

Jaehyun picks up Yuta’s hand and kisses his knuckles lightly.

“I’m an award-winning actor.”

_iii_

** _6\. New York_ **

Jaehyun puts a jacket on Yuta’s naked chest as he sits on the sofa sideways, dangling his legs on the armrest humming unintelligibly to _New York New York_.

You’re going to catch a cold, he says softly.

No, I won’t. Yuta suspects that he’s still intoxicated from the beer and the sex. Get me another Hoegaarden, maybe we can go for another round.

When Jaehyun returns with a can of beer, he takes along a camera with him.

Stay still, he says, and the camera clicks.

** _5\. Tokyo_ **

Yuta dreams of floating in the sky—except he actually wants to fly.

There’s so many things he can’t do while floating: he can’t decide where to go, he can’t decide when to stop, and most of all he can’t decide when to stop floating.

He once had a random interview piece written by an western publication calling him a perfectionist like he’s supposed to be ashamed of it, but jokes on them because he thrives on criticisms of his own shortcomings and wears them as his armour. From then on he learned to pronounce “perfectionist” in perfect English in order to craft comeback questions.

Jaehyun says it doesn’t matter—shouldn’t matter what other people say. You’re the one hearing this amazing, amazing crowd cheering for you.

The sound you hear, the excitement you feel—they were made for you.

You were born for this.

** **

** _4\. Singapore_ **

The thing is, Jaehyun _is_ different. He’s different in the way the sky is a different shade of blue than the sea. The way the colour red can be both fire and blood. The way the darkness can be both comforting and terrifying.

Like everyone else who came to him, Jaehyun approached him with his interpretation of Yuta’s songs but he’s different in that he never had to ask to be heard—and in between his “progressive psychedelic helter-skelter glam rock” (Jaehyun’s words, not his) and Jaehyun’s brand of slow, melodic blues, he manages to read Yuta completely and locks him a physical bond so tight that it sometimes hurts how Jaehyun is both everything he needs and everything he loathes.

Yuta detests senseless displays of wealth because it betrays his love for his mother’s frugality, Jaehyun spends for security. Yuta has a fondness for concepts that look like a complex web of riotous yet interlinked items ("You remind me of what I thought of Japan’s wiring," Jaehyun once said, "because how are there so many things connected and yet they look so complicated and how did people arrange so many things together without tripping them up?"), Jaehyun adores the satisfaction of being able to crack the code of the unknown and slowly dismantling them.

It’s frustrating sometimes because Yuta feels like he’s being studied every time Jaehyun eyes his face and his body and yet he couldn’t stop himself from feeling flattered by the attention. It’s exhausting that Jaehyun talks like he’s entertaining a little game of chase and it’s only a matter of time before his capriciousness gives in to Jaehyun’s methodicalness. It’s hard to say no to Jaehyun when he knows exactly what to do, what to say, and Yuta hates it because it means there has been many, many others that he has gifted this kind of flattery to. It’s hard to say no because Yuta might deny it to his face but he can’t reject the fact that Jaehyun’s sexy as fuck and it gives him a hell of an ego boost knowing that a person like Jaehyun wants to regularly fuck him.

It’s hard to say no when his body aches for him, and it aches so much that he said yes to an impromptu detour, meeting him for one night in Singapore from Bangkok when he should have been on his way back to Tokyo.

Jaehyun works his magic again when he tugs at Yuta’s little ponytail as he slips his unbuttoned shirt away from his shoulder.

“You hate rich people, but you want me.”

It’s so hard to say no to Jaehyun when he’s right about Yuta all the time and god damn it—

Yes, I want you—Yuta gasps in between kisses—and fuck it, I _really_ want you, how did you know.

I can feel it, I can. I always can.

Stop feeling it. Stop peering into my mind, my thoughts.

What if it’s what I want too.

Then stop wanting it—jesus fuck, turn off the curtains, people can see us.

No, they can’t. I made sure of it.

Still—

You want it—Jaehyun starts bending down to his crotch—and you want this. You won’t be here otherwise.

_Fuck._

Yuta really likes it when Jaehyun gets him right.

_ **2\. Osaka** _

You left something in my room the other time, Yuta says, referring to the crazily expensive Burberry hoodie Jaehyun used to cover him in the São Paulo hotel room before he left.

I left a lot of things, Jaehyun says, and you can keep them all.

You’re gross.

I know.

_ **3\. Seoul** _

Jaehyun clearly hasn’t hiked in a while.

“Is this really _crazy_, though?” He pants through his question. He was taken by surprise when Yuta announced that his so-called “crazy” suggestion is to find a hiking trail and yell on top of a mountain (“I’ve heard that Seoul has some of them easy ones for beginners,” he said) and not something kinky.

(“Look,” Yuta rebuked, “I happen to be a friend of nature, if you have read any of my interviews.

Jaehyun nodded aggressively, “I know that—it was one of the things that got me interested in you—but _now_?”)

Yuta laughs as he steps on a rock on top of Bukhansan and starts yelling towards the city bathed in orange twilight rays. He is yelling so loudly and randomly that the nearby hikers start fastening their paces downhill and Jaehyun only chuckles as they steal glances at him—probably wondering where have they seen his face before—to check if these two strange but handsome men are of sound mind.

“I used to come here with my grandfather,” Jaehyun says. “But I didn’t yell when I got up here. Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Because my grandfather was an esteemed, highly-respected academician in Seoul National University.”

“That’s not fun,” Yuta says. “Kinda defeats the whole purpose of coming up here, doesn’t it?”

“I’ve only heard exactly one person who says that they climb a mountain just to yell. And here I thought you yelled enough during your concerts.”

“That’s different, it’s all scripted yells. It’s all yelling to make other people yell. I want to yell just to see my voice getting lost in the sky.”

For a while, Jaehyun doesn’t respond.

“Why, did I say something wrong?” Yuta asks when he turns around towards Jaehyun and finds him with the most serious expression he has ever seen him in.

“Nothing. I’m thinking about how you have such pretty ways with words.”

The twilight sun, Yuta assumes, does a pretty good job at camouflaging the redness in his cheeks.

_ _

_ **7\. Sydney** _

If I write a song for you, would you sing it?

Is this yet another ploy to convince me to stop thinking about retiring—

If it’s my fault that you can’t write anymore, would you accept my help?

You don’t understand—

Would you?

You. Don’t. Fucking—

I’m sorry, please. Hear me out.

Jaehyun is desperate and Yuta doesn’t know how to tell him that it’s not going to happen.

_ **8\. Paris** _

The piano keys bang an indiscreet noise as Yuta pushes Jaehyun’s back towards the piano in a frantic, chaotic kiss. He pulls Jaehyun’s cardigan and throws it to the floor while Jaehyun grabs his hair tight and expands his chest so that his collarbone is within reach for Yuta’s tongue.

Jaehyun lets out a groan when Yuta tugs at his belt to unfasten it—sorry, did I hurt you—and slips himself inside his boxers to hold Jaehyun in his hand; the piano keys bang another loud, disharmonious note as Jaehyun’s hand loses the grip on Yuta’s hair and drops his hand to the piano; Jaehyun tries to reclaim his rhythm by breathing slower and massaging Yuta’s back but to no avail.

You’re really good at this, Jaehyun says under his breath, audibly gasping as Yuta strokes him faster.

You don’t know that.

No, you are—No, please don’t say it.

_Don’t keep saying stuff like that._

Yuta takes his time in dragging out the handjob just as Jaehyun looks like he’s about to come because he wants to be irregular, to be inscrutable, to be unreadable. It’s a little like a tiny payback, a reminder to Jaehyun that before him, Yuta lives his life untamed by emotions and uncontrollable by romance, and if Jaehyun wants to be just like everyone else who had tried to sing Yuta’s songs in their own genre but failed to capture him in their melodies, so be it.

You can’t define me by all the things that used to hurt me, Yuta grunts as he readies Jaehyun for the climax.

But you were the one who did it. 

Yuta is tired of this. I’m not going to explain to you. Not anymore than I have already said.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath as he spills and he lets Yuta rest on his chest.

Their combined weight falls on the note G—Yuta’s favourite key to start a song.

** _1\. São Paulo_ **

It doesn’t surprise Yuta that Jaehyun holds a Master’s degree in Films and Arts from Konkuk University, speaks 4 languages (“I’m only conversational in French though,” he says, like it offsets the fact that he’s already fluent in Korean, English and Japanese), can play the piano and the guitar, has a shelf full of vinyl records, a small library in his home, and a mini garden in his garage.

What does surprise him is Jaehyun saying that he decided to learn Japanese after listening to Yuta’s songs (“I’m not lying,” he insists, “I really do have all your albums.”) so that he could one day sit in front of Yuta and have a conversation with him.

“Like this?”

“Yes, like this.”

“Are you like,” Yuta decides to tease, “my superfan or something?”

Jaehyun responds with a small nod. “If you want to call it that.”

Yuta laughs. “You know, if this is all an elaborate scheme just to get a signed album, Jett’s going to be very disappointed.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Basically, she thinks I need to get dicked,” Yuta giggles at Jaehyun wincing at the word, “because I’ve been complaining about not being inspired much these days.”

“I see.”

Jaehyun drinks his tea slowly, like he’s contemplating something.

“By the way, I’m not saying that I expect you to do that. If you still want a signed album—”

“You were saying something about not being inspired?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Would you consider using me to find some inspiration?”

Yuta finds his heart beating excitedly. “What does that mean?”

“I can be anything you want, so I’ll let you define.”

Jaehyun’s ambiguous suggestiveness is giving him some serious hard-ons.

“Right, I remember,” Yuta lifts his cup of tea like he is doing a toast, “you’re an award-winning actor.”

“And you,” Jaehyun hits Yuta’s cup with his to make a tiny clanging sound, “are a million-selling rockstar.”

Damn right he is.

_iv_

** _6\. New York_ **

Jaehyun seems to be surprised when Yuta launches at him in a sudden bout of anger.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing.”

Jaehyun takes a deep breath, then his hands let go of his camera to cup his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful.”

Yuta forces his hands away and presses him to the bed.

“Stop joking,” he hears himself almost growling. “I hate that.”

“Why?”

Why indeed, Yuta thinks. Perhaps it’s because he knows perfectly how to weaponise his sexual experiences (“Go, go away and tell everything,” he used to say to all the men who only wanted him for his body, “you won’t get to say anything I haven’t sung about"); perhaps it’s because he knows perfectly how to be in total control of his images; perhaps it’s because he knows perfectly how to defend himself against everyone who choose to think the worst of him.

Perhaps because he knows that a lover’s camera is often a tool of treachery and for the longest time, he would never let himself be that vulnerable.

“You don’t hate that,” Jaehyun says. “Just like you didn’t really want to stop singing.”

You don’t know that, Yuta wants to say. You don’t fucking know that. Stop acting like you could read me, stop—

He forgets that Jaehyun is stronger than him and before he realises what has happened, Jaehyun is embracing him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I won’t do that again, I promise.”

He says it so softly that Yuta feels like crying.

“I just wanted you to see how beautiful you are.”

Yuta really, really hates the way Jaehyun makes him feel so exposed and naked.

** _5\. Tokyo_ **

Yuta’s phone wouldn’t stop vibrating because Jett wouldn’t stop calling him. It’s not like he can pick it up anyway, because he’s still breathless after spending all the energy into the performance and getting fucked, like he wanted, to the moon and back.

He lies on top of Jaehyun and lets him hold him as he gathers some breath before telling him the inevitable.

“I think this might be my last performance.”

_ **4\. Singapore** _

The ring looks exquisite on Yuta’s pinky.

“Since you hate rampant materialism,” Jaehyun starts, “you can give it to Jett.”

“Like hell I will do that,” Yuta snaps as he shoves the ring back inside its box. “I’ll keep it just in case I end up sleeping in the streets.”

“You won’t,” Jaehyun seems to think he’s joking.

“I will,” Yuta says. “I haven’t written anything since I met you. I’m starting to think I’ve exhausted everything.”

“In that case you’re free to come live with me in Seoul. People will think nothing of friends staying over.”

“Friends who fuck?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

Yuta is contemplating to take him up on the offer—after all it’s Jaehyun’s fault for being such a lousy muse that he hasn’t been able to write any new song.

** _2\. Osaka_ **

Jaehyun kisses with the kind of intensity that allows Yuta no room for straying thoughts—but even then Yuta manages to think of all the devastating qualities about Jaehyun.

He wonders how it feels to develop a compulsive crush on your favourite singer, what caused the feelings to change from idolatry to romantic desire, and what is Jaehyun thinking right now as he pounds against him, a man he claims has been his wet dream for ages.

It’s like living in another universe, really, he says in between measured breaths as he prompts Yuta to lurch a little bit more to receive him. You know, it’s like floating in the sky, it’s like—

—Stop, Yuta says as he covers Jaehyun’s mouth. He can feel the climax approaching, so he’s going to need Jaehyun to go a little bit faster.

Jaehyun holds his neck gently. I don’t want to hurt you.

He tugs at Jaehyun’s hips. Just do it. It’s going to take much more than that to cause me pain.

Jaehyun pushes in, and in—no, harder, _harder_—and in again, then he takes it out and thrust it back in as Yuta groans in pleasure. Give it to me, he whispers. Give it to me _hard_.

It’s hard to determine but Yuta feels that Jaehyun fucks him like he’s in love, kind of, and a lot of it is in the way he looks at Yuta, the way he holds his hand to his face as he asks if it hurts, the way he controls his own strength so that their hips don’t collide roughly, the way he licks his skin like he worships him. Jaehyun fucks him like he’s fully intending to sweep him off his feet and Yuta finds him to be absolutely electrifying in the way he freely allows him to tell him how he feels and Yuta has never felt so much freedom in sex especially when he’s the one doing all the receiving. It’s so strange, so unprecedented to him that he’s hearing the loveliest music in his head as Jaehyun thrusts in and Yuta thinks that this must be how it feels when it’s the heart doing the thinking and not the dick, it must be how it feels when you catch feelings before you start fucking, it must be how it feels when you fuck a person like you want to make a song for them.

It’s not the kind of feeling he’s used to, not at all, and it disgusts him immensely that he has to feel all of these useless romantic epiphanies with a person like Jaehyun who’s so desirable that he’s pretty much the Google search result for “boyfriend material”; a person like Jaehyun who’s so excruciatingly attractive that Yuta can’t go thinking about him without also thinking about his charming smile, his velvety voice and his beautiful eyes; a person like Jaehyun who’s so painfully perfect that it hurts to exist alongside him.

It seems like he’s outwardly hurting as well, because Jaehyun is pushing the warm tears away from his eyes, looking slightly worried. 

Are you ok?

Yuta tears his thoughts apart to focus on the way Jaehyun is throbbing inside him. Of course I’m ok, he says. Keep going, don’t stop.

Jaehyun comes so generously inside him that Yuta gives him a gentle lover’s kiss as he collapses on to him and feels him melt into his body.

** _3\. Seoul_ **

Yuta refuses to take the sweater unless Jaehyun spends at least a day wearing it.

“What’s the point of giving me your clothes if it doesn’t smell at least a bit like you.”

“We sound like boyfriends,” Jaehyun laughs.

Yuta scrunches his nose.

“Gross.”

** _7\. Sydney_ **

I don’t think we should meet again, Yuta suggests.

Jaehyun refuses to look at him.

_ **8\. Paris** _

Yuta buries his face in Jaehyun’s neck as he slides himself inside him—it’s all your fault, he cries softly. It’s all your fucking fault.

It’s all because Jaehyun wants to be fucked in front of a mirror.

Jaehyun chokes as he receives Yuta. I want you to see your own face when you come inside me, he was saying when he pulled Yuta into bed a while ago and hooked both of his legs on his hips.

Yuta would fuck him alright—but not in front of a mirror, you kinky bastard.

But Jaehyun’s legs travelled to below his butt and lunged him slightly upwards so that they were both touching and Yuta’s resolve to refuse dissolved immediately.

Yet he still can’t bring himself to watch himself do it. You’re so fucking weird, he groans as he pulls Jaehyun’s hip towards him. You’re so, so weird, he says, over and over again as he feels his own breath against Jaehyun’s sweaty neck and he forces himself to focus on Jaehyun’s body.

His heart beats like it’s about to escape his chest—fuck, fuck, don’t think about the way it beats in sync with the rapid thrusts, don’t think about the way his ass makes the greatest sounds as it meets his groin, don’t think about the deep, guttural groans Jaehyun lets out in pleasure. It’s like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head and his crotch—don’t listen to Jaehyun, don’t, don’t—and he digs his fingernails into his body to cause enough impact that Jaehyun yells of pain instead of pleasure. It’s like his head is about to explode—Yuta pulls Jaehyun’s hair so hard that their bodies separate and Jaehyun falls to the bed on his stomach.

Before Yuta can tell him that he can’t do this anymore, Jaehyun flips over, pushes himself towards Yuta and lets him slide back in. Just indulge me this one last time, will you, he asks softly. Trust me on this, he says, running his hand through Yuta’s hair and pulls him into a kiss. It’s the most convincing kiss ever, because it almost feels like he could go through this, they could through this, and they could fall for each other like two people who enjoy each other’s company, because it almost feels like Jaehyun is the exception to his rules and his resolve, because it almost feels like he could write a jazz song for Jaehyun.

But then Jaehyun bites his lower lip just as he’s about to come and Yuta’s suddenly jerked from all the wonderful thoughts he thinks he could have with Jaehyun and starts using the last of his energy to ram himself into him, again and again and again and Jaehyun wrestles back some control to pull Yuta’s hair and Yuta finds himself involuntarily facing the one thing he doesn’t want to see.

The climax arrives with resounding urgency and Jaehyun let’s go of his hair as he lies below Yuta, sprawling on his back and sighing like he has been fucked all the way to heaven and back.

Did you like that, he asks.

Yuta’s voice chokes as he sobs silently.

You know, I like that very much. I really like that.

Jaehyun holds him close and Yuta really appreciates that, because he’s starting to sob uncontrollably and he doesn’t even know why except for the way he’s coming undone at the seams and falling so quickly apart that he’s desperate for someone to put him back together before he’s completely broken.

You’re so beautiful when you come, Jaehyun whispers into his hair. So, so beautiful that it took my breath away.

Yuta hates that he says that, because it’s such an unequal transaction. He claims that Yuta took his breath away, but it’s only just one breath for him because Yuta feels like Jaehyun has stolen so many things from him, things like his voice and all his songs and—

I knew I had fallen for you when you kissed me when we met, because all I was thinking about was how wonderful you are, how you’re not just a dream come true but a star in human form.

Yuta sobs harder. He knows what this is and he’s going to need Jaehyun to stop. Stop, stop, he cries loudly as his body crumbles more.

And I think you’ve fallen for me too.

—with the song Jaehyun just gifted him, Yuta feels like he has been completely _shattered_.

** _1\. São Paulo_ **

Yuta grabs Jaehyun immediately right after the lift closes and Jaehyun presses the button to his penthouse suite.

You waste no time at all, Jaehyun says, in between their rushed kisses. And I like that.

Really, you do? Yuta murmurs, pulling Jaehyun towards himself so hard that he bumps his back against the wall as they kiss a little more and a little deeper. He has this nagging feeling that Jaehyun is the kind who goes for the slow burn and all the chaste dating stuff—and he’s pretty sure Jaehyun is the kind who has a thing for checkboxes and romantic progression charts or something like those—and Yuta is wondering if he’s up for something like a rollercoaster ride into the splashing water, or something like speeding on a highway, like bungee-jumping, like diving into fans at the highest point of the concert—

—suddenly his breath is arrested inside his throat as Jaehyun abruptly pulls away, gasping.

Oh my god, Jaehyun mutters. _Oh my god._

Yuta releases the air stuck in his throat and wraps his arms around Jaehyun.

I hope you know what you’re signing up for.

I know. Jaehyun says, holding Yuta’s waist.

The lift opens just as Jaehyun bends down and his smug, sexy smirk is all Yuta sees.

I’m your superfan, remember?

_V_

** _6\. New York_ **

Jaehyun stops halfway to scroll through his phone and play Chet Baker through his bluetooth speaker before going back to kissing him.

Yuta has been thinking about when this whole thing would break him because there’s only so much kissing and fucking that they could do while being holed up in hotel rooms before things get monotonous like this fucking song he’s playing. Maybe he’s still reeling from his own decision to stop singing, maybe he’s still a little angry from the earlier outburst, maybe he’s still hurting from the memories of the consequences of his vulnerabilities, maybe he has never fully recovered—and no matter how hard Jaehyun tries, Yuta just can’t find it him to want Jaehyun the way he wants Yuta.

“Let’s do this later,” Jaehyun says as he senses Yuta’s moodiness, “let’s—”

“No,” Yuta says resolutely. He pushes him to the bed, pulls down his pants and starts sucking him.

Jaehyun is so taken aback that he can only watch as Yuta slowly gets him erect and sits on him, then grinds against him with so much force that the mattress creaks audibly. He can only watch as Yuta make Jaehyun hurt him and it hurts him so much that he sobs even after it’s over and cries as he apologises multiple times over for hurting him, for making him pay for all the different kinds of pain caused by men who aren’t him, for making him see the worst in him.

I bet you must feel disappointed, he says as his words struggle to escape his throat. I bet you didn’t think I would be this pathetic.

I bet you regret meeting me.

Jaehyun can do nothing else but hold him protectively as he cries the whole night and lets Chet Baker lull him to sleep.

_ **5\. Tokyo** _

For the first time ever, Yuta is seeing Jaehyun cry.

You can’t do this, Jaehyun says, shaking his head violently. You can’t.

Yes I can.

No, no. _No_. What the fuck are you thinking.

Yes I can, I fucking can. And I will fucking do it.

Why.

No reason.

Why. _Why._

Yuta is trying to think of a shortest way to say it but coming up with blanks because his reason is long and convoluted and it goes a little something like:

because my songs were the weapons I used to hurt people who gave me pain; because my songs were about the pain I gave to all the men who came before you; because my songs were all about the stupid, stinky men who were here before you and for some reason—

I don’t want to sing about you.

** _4\. Singapore_ **

Yuta insists that Jaehyun takes the backstage pass for the Summer Rock Festival, not because he thinks Jaehyun would like the show, but because he wants Jaehyun to seize him right after his performance and fuck him to the moon and back.

“Really? This is the kind of game you play?”

“I live in the world of sex and rock ‘n roll, nothing is too crazy for me.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you haven’t done this with someone else?”

“I did,” Yuta says, “many times over.”

“And?”

“I still want you to do it.”

_ **2\. Osaka** _

The Nirvana T-shirt Jaehyun got from a fan is a little too big for Yuta, but he wears him anyway because it feels a little like getting inside his body and his mind. In other circumstances it would have caused him to be acutely aware of the differences in their built, because while his shoulder is as wide as Jaehyun’s, he’s quite significantly scrawnier that his collar bones look like they’re protruding from the shirt.

As expected of an actor, he thinks. Jaehyun was last seen playing a disgraced policeman reclaiming his reputation, so he has had to beef up and while the drama did great, Jaehyun seems to be miffed that people seem to care more about his diet secrets than the plot of the story, especially since it’s a role he took to escape his main romantic lead typecasting.

“Ever thought of playing a gay man?” Yuta asks. “Fastest way to get rid of those unending marriage proposals.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I would want to, but you know how stifling things can get.”

Yuta knows it, and he knows it very well. “Must be lonely.”

“Not now that I’ve met you, not really,” he says, pulling Yuta towards him by the hem of the shirt. “You turn me on when you wear my clothes, did you know that?”

“Now that you have said it, maybe you should make me wear all your clothes.”

Yuta doesn’t realise the implications of what he just said until he takes a glance at Jaehyun and sees his flustered face.

“Does this mean it’s ok to see you again?”

Yuta grabs him by the neck and kisses him. “The fuck are you talking about, aren’t we already meeting for the second time?”

“But I would like us to see each other more, maybe even after you get that inspiration you were looking for.”

Yuta stops to consider for a while, because he just remembered that he had a minor breakdown from being fucked so lovingly and as much as he loves seeing Jaehyun again, he doesn’t think it would be wise for him to keep going through all of that just to be able to write new songs.

A Jett-sounding voice at the back of his head tells him that he could have just turned off his mind and not think about other people when he’s with Jaehyun. Except I can’t, he responds inside. Painlessness is the fastest way to remind you of all the times when it used to hurt, you see.

Jaehyun kisses his forehead. “Are you ok with that?”

“What?”

“That I want to see you more?”

Well, Yuta thinks and rests his head on Jaehyun’s chest. Why not.

_He wasn’t the one who hurt me._

** _3\. Seoul_ **

They both agree that they should stick to the same story that’s based in reality: about Jaehyun being Yuta’s fan and Yuta having watched some of the movies Jaehyun acted in; about coincidentally meeting in São Paulo and hitting it off as friends; about meeting up for meals regularly whenever they can.

(Everything except the part where they have a lot of sex with each other.)

And don’t forget about the part where Yuta teases him about wanting his signed album.

“By the way,” Jaehyun reminds him, “you still owe me that.”

** _7\. Sydney_ **

Jaehyun left a note on the dressing table on top of a nicely-folded shirt—it’s a merchandise from his tour a few years ago.

_Come meet me in Paris_, the note says. _Let’s decide then if you still want to retire._

_If you still want me._

** _1\. São Paulo_ **

He’s lying naked on his stomach, head resting on his elbow with only two thoughts filling his mind: how incredibly captivating Jaehyun has looked when his body—his very, very beautiful body, gosh those wonderful pectorals—is completed sated, and the strange random tune singing in his head.

Yuta may not have cared much about Jaehyun being an award-winning actor—even if he isn’t, that gorgeous face itself should win a trophy—but he definitely cares that Jaehyun has been some kind of a world-class lover.

Jaehyun lets out what could only be described as a guffaw when he hears that.

“World-Class Lover—I like that, even if it sounds like a potential title of your new song,” Jaehyun says, opening a can of beer for him.

“Never, it sounds so lame.”

“Says the one whose first album has this song called Sex On A Plane.”

“You can laugh but it was the most exciting ever.”

“The sex?”

“No, the song. I was very young at that time.”

“What kind of songs would you write about me?”

Yuta sneers a little. “You signed up to be my muse, but I didn’t sign up to take up the muse.”

Jaehyun laughs but he takes Yuta’s beer and places it on the bedside cabinet then flips him so that he’s lying on his back.

“I’m just asking hypothetically,” he clarifies, shifting himself so that he’s on top of Yuta, pinning him down. “If you were to write a song about me, what would it be?”

Yuta’s pretty sure it’s his dick doing the thinking right now, because he feels it rising again as Jaehyun caresses the side of his face and all he’s thinking about is how should he tell Jaehyun that he’s usually the one in control. He’s usually so in control that he let his past lovers think that they had him in their palms as they gifted him with their adulation like Yuta was supposed to be flattered and reciprocate mindlessly. He’s so in control that he had never really gotten his heart broken because of his capacity for surgically precise diagnoses on human emotions and he’s so in control that he has been stealing the tunes of his past loves and put them in his songs because they offered to him so freely—

—yet for some reason Jaehyun just made a song in his head, a familiar tune that sounds like a remix of his own songs and Yuta finally realises something.

He breaks Jaehyun’s grip and topples him over.

“I think we would need more materials,” he says. “Come find me tonight in my room.”

Near his crotch, Yuta feels Jaehyun’s body respond.

You’re so fucking sexy, Jaehyun says, his hand touching the inside of his thigh.

Yuta laughs. You ain’t seen anything yet, he says, bending down to push his tongue inside his mouth.

Inside his head, the strange random tune plays with more clarity with each deepening kiss.

_ **8\. Paris** _

You got me, you finally got me, Yuta says as Jaehyun cradles him in his arms.

Yes, I did. And what are you going to do about it.

I’m going to do a lot of things.

Tell me.

I’m going to scream and fill the air with vibrations from the sound of your name, I’m going to play my songs in your genre, and I’m going to tell all the men who had hurt me before—

What about them?

—that I thank them for hurting me so badly that it drove me to you.

_vi_

** _Tokyo, 3 years ago._ **

Jett comes bursting into his room like she owns the entire building, but Yuta’s not finished.

“You realised that Music Station isn’t just a gig you can make me delay, right?”

Shit. “It’s Music Station? I thought it’s on the 25th?”

Jett shakes him by his shirt. “Today is the 25th, you. Dumb. Idiot. Big. Stupid. Ingrate. Butt For Head.”

Yuta rushes around his apartment to pack as Jett continues to yell increasingly more profane insults as they run to the van and Jett begs Komaki-san, the driver to drive quickly but safely.

While Komaki-san lectures them on the importance of honouring time and road safety while driving, Jett takes Yuta’s hand in hers and squeezes it softly.

“Did something happen again?”

Yuta empties the air from his chest and slumps in his seat to drop his head to her shoulder.

“I did it, I ghosted him,” he admits. “And I’m feeling like shit.”

“You didn’t call him?”

“No.”

“Were you tempted?”

“Very.”

“Great,” she puts an arm across his shoulder encouragingly. “I’m still sorry.”

She’s referring to that time she blurted out about seeing Hiroshi with another girl, and to think that she was the one who set them up together. Hiroshi was her classmate in high school that she had always suspected to be gay and she had thought that Hiroshi somewhat having a stable corporate career would mean that Yuta would finally settle down and not fall for random hot models he sees at parties. She couldn’t have known that Hiroshi was never going to ever come clean about liking men and that the girl was actually his _fiance_.

When Jett broke the news to him, Yuta felt so sick inside that he thought his body would fail him completely and his voice would be trapped inside—but his latest single was already going to be produced and it was too late to tell their label that they were going to back out of the single promotion.

“I was ready to find you sleeping, if I were to be honest,” Jett says. “So what got you writing again?”

“Had a call with Haruna a few days ago, she said mom was crazy about this Korean drama,” Yuta says. “So I gave it a try to distract myself a bit. Haruna said mom loves the main character.”

Jett pulls out her phone. “The drama’s name?”

“_My Mother’s Guardian Angel_, heard of it?”

Jett has apparently heard of it, because the quick Google search shows her a familiar face currently plastered all over Shibuya.

“This Jung Jaehyun guy is so everywhere that it annoyed me a bit, since your single release is coming up and all, but he’s so handsome that I doubted myself a little bit.”

Yuta finally laughs. “You know, maybe I should set you up with him so that you can use him as your lesbian cover.”

“I said he’s handsome, I never said he’s my type, duh.”

Their light-hearted conversation is cut short because the traffic light just turned green and the famous TV Asahi building is within sight.

“Hey Yuta,” Jett stops him right before he alights the van. “Let’s do this properly. The thing with your music. I promise I’ll get you a good man once we get to a million copies.”

Yuta squeezes her hand and pulls her into a tight hug.

“I love you so much, Nanami.”

_ **Seoul, 2 years ago** _

Jaehyun’s phone buzzes with a text from Moonbin telling him that he just helped to respond to another dating rumour so don’t be alarmed if he finds himself appearing all of the news sites. A quick navigation at Naver shows him to be the rumoured reason for why a veteran actress, Kim Jiyeon is currently divorcing her husband.

The rumour sounds so wild that Jaehyun almost wishes for it to be true: apparently the veteran actress Kim Jiyeon’s mature beauty caught the eyes of the Nation’s Boyfriend Jung Jaehyun when they were working together in a drama a year ago where Jaehyun played the spirit of Kim Jiyeon’s late husband. The rumour has it that some of the scenes in early episodes where Jaehyun acted out some of the more romantic gestures the late husband used to do for Kim Jiyeon were so laden with unresolved sexual tension that the viewers refused to believe that they didn’t have a thing for each other. It only got worse as the filming went on, with the drama writers rushing to insert as many suggestive scenes as possible even with a few almost risque ones.

_My Mother’s Guardian Angel_ was such a hit across Asia that while Jaehyun got himself magically linked to all the female cast members (Kim Jiyeon’s character has 4 daughters) but none of them more scandalous than this.

Next to him in the record store, Dongyoung reads the headline skeptically. “It seems like they really, really want you to hook up with her.”

“Salacious, right? Even I want to know how that feels like.”

“Sometimes I feel like you should just do it.”

“Get in dating scandals?,” Jaehyun asks, “but you said your brother is off-limits?”

“Fuck you,” Dongyoung spits.

Jaehyun laughs heartily as he spots some fangirls coming over, but they stop in front of Dongyoung instead of him.

“Oh,” Dongyoung says, taken aback, scrambling to find a pen in his pocket to sign autographs for the fans.

Jaehyun knows that this is bound to happen, because Dongyoung’s reputation for churning quality OSTs is only getting more and more solid by the day and Jaehyun is ridiculously proud of his friend. It helps that Dongyoung is really handsome as well (objectively though, because his big brother is the hot one) and gives really good advice in his radio shows. He’s also currently doing some mini campaign on stopping school bullying and Jaehyun could only wish he could have some percentage of Dongyoung’s freedom to be involved in some of the initiatives he holds dear.

“Keep that for later. For now, the only thing you need to do is not dating anyone,” was the instruction given to him by his agency.

Little did they know how easy he finds that to be.

(If only Dongyoung wasn’t so anal about me possibly dating his brother, that jackass.)

While waiting for Dongyoung, Jaehyun strays a little from the current aisle and finds himself facing the TV Screen in the Japanese Music section playing a music video of this really familiar rockstar and Jaehyun is thinking that he might have seen his face when he was in Shibuya for a fan event some few months ago. Jaehyun remembers the jawline pretty well—the posters were shot from the side—but he’s starting to wonder if he had been so busy that he missed out seeing his face, because it’s the most beautiful face he has ever seen.

Jaehyun can’t stop watching, especially also because he’s been noticing the way the music video could only be shot by someone who’s infatuated with him: all the lingering shots of his strong facial features but wearing the most brittle expressions, close-ups of his delicate hands and his face looking into the camera before the screen fades out—

—Jaehyun is feeling that he has found someone who manages to make loneliness seems like the most beautiful thing.

He picks up the CD and when Dongyoung looks at him questionably at the counter, he merely smiles mischievously and says, “your brother is now safe from me.”

Dongyoung punches him lightly in response.


End file.
